


Days Without End

by sg_wonderland



Series: Days series [20]
Category: Stargate SG-1
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-02
Updated: 2016-10-02
Packaged: 2018-08-19 02:55:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,507
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8186716
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sg_wonderland/pseuds/sg_wonderland
Summary: The final story in the Days Series





	

“Dad.” I wake with a start. Daniel rarely calls me dad and when he does, I have to wonder what he’s up to. I blearily rub my eyes and sit up slowly; evidently, I’d fallen asleep once again waiting for him to come home from the basketball game. Gazing up at him, I wonder when he grew up; wasn’t he five-years-old a minute ago? The years we’ve been together have melted into one long memory. “Are you alright?” He sits on the coffee table, his eyes concerned.

“Yeah, I’m good, just fell asleep. What time is it?”

“Two-thirty,” he admits.

“Dammit, Daniel! Do you even know the meaning of curfew?”

“Dad.”

That’s when I realize something is wrong, very wrong. “Daniel?”

“Craig. Craig Middleton, from school?”

“Tall kid, kinda lanky?” His dad is out at Peterson.

“He was driving home from the ball game and it was raining..” He can’t go on but he doesn’t have to. I grab him as he collapses to his knees in front of me. “We came up on the wreck. His car was….there wasn’t anything left….”

“You should have called me.” I wish he had.

“He wasn’t even seventeen, Dad. And now he’s gone. It’s not fair!”

I rock him. “No, you’re right, it’s not fair.” He’s not a child anymore, but at this point in time, he’s still my baby boy. 

“He was a good kid, he didn’t drink or run with a bad crowd or anything. He,” his breath hitches, “he was going to go to college next fall. He wanted to be a pilot like his father.”

“Shh. It’s okay. It’s okay.” I wrap my arms around him as he cries.

*

It’s nearly dawn when I finally get him to sleep. I take a shower, make coffee, start laundry, piddle around until it’s a decent hour and I can call the chaplain at Peterson, get some news. She tells me that it was a freak accident, the kid wasn’t speeding, had his seat belt on and everything. He just went into a skid on the rain-slicked road, lost control, plowed through a fence and took out a couple of trees. The family hasn’t made the arrangements yet and she puts me on an ever-growing list of people to notify.

I call the base commander, Hank Landry, and explain what happened. I’m not scheduled for anything heavy duty for the next few days and he tells me to stay home and take care of Daniel. He’s a good man, even if one of his first official acts was to remove me from the field. He was, of course, right. I was too old, my knees had been giving me increasing trouble and my being in charge of recruitment and training was a plus for everyone. Including, he said with a smile, one certain eight-year-old who shouldn’t have to bury another parent.

So I left the field, Carter took over SG-1 with a couple of additions, Daniel’s long-time pal, Cameron Mitchell and a slightly shady alien named Vala Maldoran, on whom Daniel had a crush that lasted about fifteen minutes; he still thinks Carter’s the prettiest woman in the world.

*

The ten years since I’ve had Daniel haven’t been a piece of cake by any means; we’ve had our share of ups and downs. Ballard reared his ugly head a couple of times, threatening to sue for visitation but Bennett intervened and finally convinced him that Daniel’s best interest were being served by leaving him right where he was. I grudgingly agreed to send along school photos and report cards and every year, a Christmas present arrived through the mail.

He wasn’t an easy child by any means. His IQ made school unpredictable at best. Alexander Quimby has become an invaluable ally; he is someone Daniel respects and, thankfully, listens to. Daniel started taking classes at the university last year and the famed Juilliard has offered him a scholarship next year, something that we are seriously discussing even if it means he skips the last two years of high school and moves 1800 miles away from his old man. 

And because of that, I’m seriously contemplating calling in a few markers I have at the Pentagon, which will make that distance shrink considerably. I think I can stand DC for two years.

He and Catherine have an odd relationship. He challenges her, stands up to her in a way I don’t think anyone ever dared to do. Neither will admit it, but they both get a spark of something like delight in their eyes when Daniel argues theory with her. Ernest and I just stand back and let them go at it.

I grounded him more than I ever thought I would have to; unfortunately, having two bull-headed males in one house made life interesting.

Hanging around me and Mitchell gave Daniel a fascination for flying. I reluctantly allowed him to take lessons a couple of years ago and he just recently got his pilot’s license, leading to him leaving ‘Santa Claus’ a note asking for an airplane for Christmas when most kids are asking for a bike. That note is framed and hanging on my bedroom wall.

This is the Daniel that he should have been, would have been if he hadn’t lost his parents; confident without being arrogant; brilliant without being condescending; his natural sweetness drawing friends effortlessly. 

He cannot remember a time when he wasn’t loved, when he didn’t have a stable home life, when he didn’t have a family who openly adored him. 

There is a picture of Claire and Melburn Jackson on his bedroom wall and he has very hazy memories of them. 

My parents never moved back to Chicago so he had loving grandparents; Carter and Fraiser and even Sara upon occasion, mothered him relentlessly. Teal’c never quite forgave himself for the incident that changed Daniel’s life irrevocably so he tried to smooth the path for Daniel Jackson in any way possible, ready to pulverize anyone who even looked sideways at the kid. I finally had to put my foot down about them constantly buying him stuff. 

He was the child none of us had and all of us loved.

*

I kept a very close eye on Daniel, standing so straight and tall with five other teen-aged boys in somber suits as they carried their friend out of the church. Now they are milling around the cemetery, kids tearfully hugging each other before hurrying off somewhere they can pretend this didn’t happen.

“Jack.” I turn.

“Kayla.” I swing her up in my arms, she’s still a tiny little thing. She looks, to me, the same as she did when she and Daniel used to play on the swings together. “Still as pretty as you ever were.”

“And you’re still as big a liar as you ever were.”

“So when are you going to come and see an old man?” I tweak the somber black hat perched on her dark red curls.

“Oh, well, you know..”

“I won’t tell the boyfriend if you won’t.” I tease before I realize that her eyes unconsciously seek Daniel. “Kayla? Do I need to have a talk with your young man?”

“Tommy, well, he doesn’t always get that Daniel and I are like brother and sister, you know?”

Translation, Tommy is jealous of Daniel. I follow her eyes. Tommy’s probably got some grounds. Daniel is popular with both teachers and students at school. I’ve noticed lately that his cell phone has begun to get a lot of usage and not just from the guys. I finally just gave up and got one of those unlimited plans so I could quit wincing every time I got the bill.

Physically, Daniel is tall and slim, his hair has darkened to the color of good whiskey, curling when it gets too long, which it is right now, the braces flash when he smiles, which he does a lot, and the silver frames highlight the deep blue eyes. Emotionally, he is a quiet, mature, thoughtful fifteen-year-old. Usually. Then there are the times he is the typical rebellious, smart-mouthed teen. And, just for a moment, I get a glimpse of who he once was and who he will probably be once again.

I walk over to speak to Craig’s parents. David is clearly still in shock, Marissa seems to have aged ten years since I saw her last.

“You’ve got a good kid there, Jack.” David smiles as Daniel approaches, his long coat flapping in the winter wind.

“Yes, yes, he is.”

“Take care of him,” he turns abruptly, stopping when he meets Daniel, I watch him touch Daniel’s cheek before he strides away. Marissa spends a few more moments with Daniel, finally hugging him before hurrying after her husband.

I wait patiently for Daniel to come to me. “Feel like going home, kid?”

The wind lifts his hair and he takes one last look at the pile of flowers over the mound of dirt before he speaks. “Yeah, Dad, let’s go home.”


End file.
